


Unarmored in the Night

by migratorycat



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 03:55:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21220160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/migratorycat/pseuds/migratorycat
Summary: Aymeric has had a day full of stress, and Estinien visits in the night with the immediate intention of relieving him of it.





	Unarmored in the Night

Aymeric was lazing by the fire, wrapped in the thick robe that was his preference for such frigid nights, yet his mind was as active as ever, juggling matters that had yet to be resolved, tasks that had yet to be seen to. His eyes stared blankly into the gentle flames. Their twisting dance nearly distracted him beyond noticing a quick movement on the very edge of his peripheral vision. He turned his head and saw, of all things, a casually dressed man on his balcony, crouched as if he had just alighted there. His long white hair stirred in the wind that constantly battered these tall towers.

Warmth surged inside Aymeric's body. He knew what a clandestine visit in the young night from the Azure Dragoon meant. They had been about this for weeks now.

They both stood, and Estinien waited patiently at the door as he calmly went and unlocked it for him, courteously holding it open and shutting it behind.

As Aymeric finished locking it and turned, Estinien surged forward. Aymeric found himself unequal to the task of standing his ground and was promptly pinned against the cold glass as Estinien's mouth settled over his. He pushed back, determined to be fierce, but the dragoon's casual pace soothed some of his passion. He wrapped his arms around Estinien, whose hands left his shoulders and went to his hips, shoving his robe open and pulling him so that their groins, separated by so little now, were flush against one another. Aymeric's breath fluttered as Estinien took his lower lip in his teeth and traced it with his tongue, then released it and deepened their kiss.

At length they pulled apart. "Good evening, Estinien," said Aymeric, his unsteady voice ruining the politeness.

"It shall be," Estinien rejoined. His hand grappled with his own pants and Aymeric's nightclothes, and with uncanny speed freed them both, the two garments puddling at their respective feet. His deft touch brought them together, and he began to rub and stroke them both in tandem. Aymeric sucked in a breath and shut his eyes to bear the pleasure. He felt Estinien drag the collar of his robe aside to expose his neck, and warm lips soon followed, teasing him exactly where he preferred to be kissed. He shuddered, and his hand went to Estinien's head, his fingers threading through his hair, holding him close, a silent beg not to stop.

A groan escaped him. "Estinien…" His voice was lowered with want. The dragoon slowed, his hand lingering at the tips, his index finger and thumb flexing in teasing strokes across the sensitive flesh. Aymeric issued a shuddering sigh.

Estinien paused to speak against his skin. "I can see just by looking at you that the burden of responsibility weighs heavy upon you today," he observed. "Allow me to take it from you, if only for a while."

Aymeric opened his eyes and gazed past Estinien's head into nothing. He considered; they did often change positions between them, as their whims dictated, and tonight he felt a deep desire to relinquish himself, to let free all his burdens and be taken in intimacy.

"Please," he whispered.

Estinien's hand tightened on them both, and Aymeric's fingers curled in his hair. He turned and closed his lips upon the dragoon's cheek just before the man pulled his head back to look deeply into his eyes. Estinien let himself drop from his grip and took Aymeric fully in his hand, and pleasured him with one long, slow stroke, spanning several years-long seconds, down and then up again. The dragoon leaned in until his parted lips just barely touched Aymeric's. Their breaths crashed and whirled in warm opposition.

"Do you hunger for me?" asked Estinien against Aymeric's mouth in a low, almost voiceless breath. Aymeric swallowed, unable to reply; the hot throb of arousal evoked by those words silenced him. He tried to close the gap and kiss him, but Estinien jerked his head away with a rough chuckle. By way of apology he pressed their bodies close together. Aymeric's hand dropped from Estinien's hair and draped over his shoulder. He looked into the dragoon's cruel grin with a frown.

Estinien caressed his face, chuckling again. "Such a pretty pout you have," he teased. "Don't worry - I'll not make you beg. Here."

Estinien released him and set about the task of undressing himself so quickly that Aymeric scarcely thought to blink before it was done. His hands returned to duck under Aymeric's shirt and ran their way up his chest. His eyes were hungry as they crawled appreciatively over the slopes of his abs, and when his gaze rose to meet Aymeric's, he smiled darkly and pulled the robe off his shoulders in one swift movement. The cold rushed in. Aymeric lifted his arms cooperatively, grateful that Estinien had learned to  _ not _ rip off his bedclothes; finally Estinien gave him a gentle shove in the direction of his bed, uttering a one-breath laugh.

"How shall you have me?" asked Aymeric, pausing before it. He reached over to the nightstand. 

"However you wish," Estinien replied. He glanced around the room. "Where is…?"

"Right here." The bottle of lubricant was already in his hand. Estinien took it from him, then while he was uncorking it and lightly coating his fingers, Aymeric settled himself on the bed, on his back.

"I see," Estinien murmured when he observed how Aymeric had positioned himself. "Now, then…"

The dragoon climbed on top of him, his movements long and drawn out enough that Aymeric could appreciate the way his muscles flexed across his lean physique. Estinien pressed his head down to the pillows with a kiss, and Aymeric shivered as he felt a few fingers explore and then enter him.

The necessary exercise of stimulation and stretching left Aymeric squirming with a desire for the rest within moments. His hands roamed Estinien's flesh without direction, over hard muscles and lean limbs. He savored the length of his broad shoulders and the strength coiled in the chest that pressed back against him as the warrior breathed evenly and with practiced concentration, as if he were warming up for a battle. Aymeric would provide little fight; he pulsed with the agony of desire that knows it will soon be sated, but not yet.

Estinien lifted his head, breaking the kiss, but began to trail kisses in a path down his chest, down, down… and then his mouth enveloped him with warmth and wetness, and a dexterous hand joined to aid it. Estinien dipped his head, taking him further; Aymeric groaned as his tongue pulsed with his work. Then the movements became rhythmic, and he truly began to writhe inside; he moaned from deep within his chest, grateful that he did not have to worry about being heard. His legs bent and spread wide as his longing to be taken increased by leaps and bounds. He took Estinien's head in his hands, as he needed  _ something _ to hold onto. His thighs began to quiver.

"Estinien,  _ please _ …" His voice trembled with the pleasure and the ache. "No more of this - I cannot bear it."

The dragoon showed him mercy; his head lifted, letting him gently slip out of his mouth, and Estinien released him and withdrew his fingers at once, leaning to one side to retrieve the temporarily discarded bottle. Aymeric closed his eyes, let his hands drop to either side, and waited; soon Estinien's hands, one of them slick, were directing him to lift his hips so that a pillow could be placed underneath. He waited, and waited… then he felt Estinien's heat press near, pushing past the precipice. He sighed as it entered him, and opened his eyes. Estinien leaned over him, his long hair hanging to one side.

"More," he whispered. Estinien obliged, lowering himself closer and pressing further in. Soon his hardness brushed past that spot that brought so much pleasure; Aymeric arched his head back against the pillows with a gasp as the stimulation flooded him with it. "There…!"

"There?" Estinien kissed the front of his throat and rolled his hips just so, forcing himself against that spot again, and a pleasure-stricken moan emerged from Aymeric's lips unbidden.

The dragoon began to thrust into him at a measured pace, and this quickly unraveled what little composure Aymeric had left. His breath soon came in soft, panting gasps, accompanied steadily by heady groans that he could not control and, once, a call to the Fury. Estinien seized his wrists and pinned him down, and the blush on his face deepened another shade. They kissed hungrily, gasping in the heat of sex.

At last, he  _ did _ beg: "Harder… please…"

"Soon," Estinien responded. "I want to draw this out just a little more. The sight of you like this…" He released Aymeric's wrists and planted one hand to the side while the other trailed its way down Aymeric's chest.

At length it reached his throbbing hardness. Estinien paused a moment to retrieve the lubricant one more time, and spilled a judicious drop precisely upon it. The dragoon employed two fingers to spread the drop along the underside, moving so slowly that Aymeric's chest boiled to contain a scream; Estinien swept his palm around the length and finally spread it along the rest, and Aymeric cried out his name as he began to pleasure him with firm, slickened stokes matching the cadence of his resumed thrusts. He descended into maddened gasps of pleasure. He turned his head aside and whimpered without dignity into the pillows while he tried desperately not to climax.

The heat inside him became a tempest of fire, and soon he knew he could not take any more without coming undone.

"Estinien, please, harder," he begged. "I'm so close. I need…" He convulsed with painful pleasure. He was poised on the brink.

Estinien went still and stopped stroking him, letting him cool down for a moment, for which he was deeply grateful. The dragoon sank down and kissed him, and he could barely kiss back, he was so dazed.

"Are you ready?" Estinien asked at length, and Aymeric nodded.

The first thrust rammed deep - deeper than he had yet gone this night. Aymeric grunted with the force and the pleasure. Then came the next, and the next, and soon Estinien was driving into him with merciless enthusiasm. The bed rocked with the rhythm of his hips. Estinien’s slickened hand grabbed him again, and stroked him hard and fast. Aymeric spread his legs to the point of pain and braced himself.

He ascended all too quickly. His climax stabbed into him, the heat coiling in his groin and exploding outward, like a serpent launching into its final strike. His breathing hitched; his whole body spasmed with the pleasure of it. He cried out desperately at the height.

Estinien hooked one arm under him and sat up, heaving him up with him while he continued to pound away, his hips working furiously. He held Aymeric against him with the strength of one arm while his free hand slithered up and into Aymeric's hair, fingers tangling into a fist within, and then wrenched back his head. Aymeric gasped in surprise as Estinien attacked his neck with a rough kiss. The dragoon groaned urgently, the pace of his breath and his thrusts increasing, until the muscles of his arm flexed around Aymeric's body, and finally Aymeric felt his release claim him. He slowed with a satisfied sigh, and gently lowered Aymeric back down to the bed, trembling. He shifted until his arm was under the pillows, and fell by Aymeric's side, his head settling to lie upon his shoulder. Both their eyes fell upon Aymeric's release, which trailed beyond halfway up his chest.

"My," said Estinien, swiping a drop with one finger and bringing it to his tongue. Aymeric chuckled tiredly, unable to offer a witty remark.

They lay together that way for a few minutes. As the heat of lust and sex abated, the cold began to settle in.

"We should clean up, and retire," Aymeric said eventually. Estinien sat up with a grunt, allowing him to do the same; they went about the former task in silence.

When Aymeric finished and turned his attention back to Estinien, he realized that the dragoon was in the process of dressing, and therefore leaving. Again.

"No, wait," he blurted, then cleared his throat. Estinien regarded him with one eyebrow raised. "The night is frigid," he began again. "'Twould be more pleasant to spend it next to you. Will you not stay?"

It was the first time that Aymeric had gathered the courage to make this request; Estinien  _ always _ left when they were done, and without looking back. The silence stretched between them now, and the leaden feeling of regret and fear of rejection pooled in Aymeric's stomach as he awaited an answer. Estinien gazed at the floor a long while, heedless of his inner conflict.

Then he dropped the shirt which he had been poised to don, and Aymeric beamed in spite of himself. He wrenched the blankets back and crawled under them, holding them up as Estinien did the same, and they quickly arranged themselves as before, with Aymeric on his back against a multitude of pillows and Estinien lying against his side, one lean, muscular arm draped across his chest. Estinien lifted his head once and swept his hair back with a flick, then settled in a dozen little movements, and grew still.

He seemed content to say nothing. Aymeric fought the urge to express thanks or spout a relevant line of poetry that came to mind. He closed his eyes, and soon sleep claimed him, gentle and sweet, and his dreams were free of strife.


End file.
